That Spring Day
by ClaireLaGrande
Summary: The story of an unlikely pair, connected by the springtime's blossoming youth. (A "To Your Eternity"/"Fumetsu no Anata E" fanfiction.)
1. Meeting

It was a beautiful spring morning when I first met him. I had just gotten up, put on my usual uniform for working and started watering the plants when I spotted a strange looking gray ball in the bushes cornering the path leading up to my front door. It wasn't exactly unusual to find creatures of the nearby forest seeking shelter in someone's front porch, but this one was much bigger than the usual hare or fox. Its fur looked dirty and wet, like it had just swum through a river and then decided to take a nap here because it was so exhausted. Cautiously, I approached it...

"Mornin', Arka!"

I jolted upright. I hadn't noticed the mailman until now. I threw a short glance at the beast laying curled up in between the branches. Thankfully, even though it surprised me a bit since the mailman liked to shout a lot, it still seemed to be fast asleep. I sighed and forced myself to smile as if nothing had happened.

"Good morning, Yurkas."

He got off his bright yellow mail bike and came a few steps closer to the fence separating my front porch from the road.

"Here's your mail."

I felt his gaze wandering up and down my body.

"Did you really wash it again this morning?"

"Well, after all, working in the city requires me to keep my clothes clean and without a scratch."

He chuckled slightly, as if making fun of me.

"At least it pays better than being a mailman in a small village like this one."

* * *

Yurkas had been the village's mailman for as long as I could remember. It seemed as if being the mailman was such an honor to his family that they happily kept inheriting this position. His eldest son, who was at the time a few years younger than me, already helped his father out when delivering the mail or when it came to small errands. Despite being old enough to handle the business by himself, Yurkas insisted on keeping most of the work to himself. Things were a lot more advanced in the big cities: communication via small electronic devices called "Chips", deliveries were carried out by huge metallic birds often referred to as "Tauben" and the overall standard of living was much higher. Even though I worked in a pretty low position in an office, I had to wash my uniform almost every single day because of all the hygiene regulations. Thankfully, since my home village was close to a small river from which the water supply system was fed, the water bill was rather affordable. The city I worked in used to have a river, too, but the water got more and more dirty over time and filtering it quickly became too expensive. And so, to prevent germs and illness to spread, the river was forcefully dried down by building a dam where the branch of the river that ran through the city separated itself from the main stream. Where the river used to flow were now several flat-roofed gray buildings, more of a slum than an actual residential area. By a hair's width I would have been forced to live in such a building. Luckily, I inherited the small house I lived in back then and still do today from my grandparents as they moved in with my parents.

Thinking back to that day, I was both happy and sad. My grandma loved the outdoors and couldn't stand being dependent on other people whenever she wanted to move around, water her precious flowers, go for a walk with her pets or do anything at all really. What she missed the most was traveling though. Going to faraway places. Making friends everywhere. Helping people in need. I always felt a bit overwhelmed by that thought, I was more of a home-stuck kid.

* * *

But back to the story at hand, the story of how I met one of my most extraordinary friends. As I was saying, Yurkas had just arrived in front of my gate and was now going through his bag in search of my mail. As he handed it to me, he smiled and let his gaze wander once more.

"Well anyways, take care at work. I've heard how dangerous it can be in the city, especially in the industrial districts."

I was still somewhat forcing a smile. It was starting to hurt at this point.

"Thanks, you take care, too. Don't want you tripping over your own feet again like last week."

He blushed.

"Ya needn't remind me..."

I couldn't keep my eyes off the grayish fur ball laying in the bushes anymore at this point and was slowly getting worried that my conversation with Yurkas would wake it. By the size of it, it could have been anything from a fairly big stray cat to a young but adult wolf. Both being equally as bad for my garden and myself.

"See you around then. I still have a few things to do before leaving for work."

Without waiting for a reply I turned around and quickly disappeared into my house. As I closed the front door behind me, I took a quick peek through the small window right next to it to ensure that Yurkas had continued on his way through the village. I sighed in relief as I saw him pedal away without a creature jumping out of the shrubs to take a bite out of him. However, there was definitely some movement now. The gray creature slowly unraveled itself and crawled out of the mass of fresh green leaves. It was an adult wolf, however a severely malnourished one. He started to sniff at some of my plants and plucked a few sweet berries off of a bush. Then he spotted me.

I gulped. His narrow, sharp yellow eyes were fixed on me and pierced me with their determination. Or was it hunger? Hope maybe? I started to move away slowly, but for every step I took, he seemed to take one forward. My heart was beating rapidly. I had never dealt with a carnivorous animal of this size before. The wolf disappeared from my vision but I could distinctly hear the clicking of his claws on the stone steps leading up to my front door. The doorknob started to rattle. I froze in an instant.

 **The door wasn't locked.**

This thing knew how to open doors and probably wanted to eat me. In the time I still had, I somewhat freed myself from this feeling of shock and grabbed a frying pan to defend myself from an attack. I prepared myself, fixing my eyes on the doorknob as it rattled, slowly moved to the side and ultimately gave way. The door creaked as it opened a few inches. But instead of bolting open, it stopped. Did the animal become scared and ran away? I leaned forward to take a closer look. Just then, the door opened fully and the shadow of a tall being fell onto the wooden floor. Was this beast really smart enough to stand on its hind legs in order to open doors? Was this some kind of circus animal? As I looked up at the figure standing in the door frame, I realized it wasn't an animal. Instead of an animal on its hind legs there stood a young man, maybe sixteen or eighteen years old, with a brown fur cape and boots that looked like they were made for very cold weather. It wasn't exactly warm outside that day, but this boy was certainly overdressed. I was still examining his features, his pale face and hair, his thin body, the strange type of clothing I had never seen anyone wear around here, and didn't notice right away when the boy stepped closer to me.


	2. Making contact

I didn't know how to react. He didn't say anything, maybe because he couldn't speak my language. He leaned over my body, looked around, firmly but with care pushed me aside and started sniffing around on the floor and kitchen table. He seemed to be hungry, too. Maybe he was the owner of this strange wolf-like dog? But why was he sniffing about like an animal and didn't use gestures or another way of communication to tell me what he was looking for? I figured I could as well take the first step. I cleared my throat to get his attention, but he didn't react.

"Excuse me? Do you want to eat something?"

He ignored me. I tried again, to no avail. I went into the back of the house where my storage room was, picked up a loaf of bread and returned to the kitchen area. The strange boy was still looking for food, he had just found a few breadcrumbs underneath the kitchen table and quickly scraped them up with his tongue. As I entered the room with the loaf of bread, his head shot up and he shuffled over to me on all fours. His tongue hung out his mouth and he stared at me with impatience in his eyes, like a dog awaiting a treat.

"Alright...here you go."

I knelt down in front of the boy and laid the loaf of bread on the ground before him. As soon as I had pulled my hand back, he lunged forward and tore the bread apart, forcing huge bits down his throat with an almost pained wheezing sound. After he was done, he yawned and looked at me with a content smile. He then opened his mouth once more and muttered something sounding like:

"Thanks."

I smiled awkwardly and stood up straight. However, as soon as I tried to take another step, the boy grabbed one of my trouser legs with his teeth and tugged at it, making a soft wincing sound.

"You're still hungry? Fine, I'll get you another one."

The boy let go of me and laid down on the floor, his eyes following me with anticipation. As I stepped into the storage room once more, I realized what time it was. I had to leave for work soon. But I couldn't leave this boy here by himself, could I? Maybe he would be able to communicate better after having eaten and rested for a while. I came back into the kitchen and laid another loaf of bread on the ground next to the table as it seemed to be the safest option. This way the boy, now laying sprawled out on the kitchen floor fast asleep, would at least be less likely to knock anything down. Maybe he just didn't have the strength to walk upright? I was lost in thought again, pondering where the strange boy might have come from and where his pet or companion had gone.

"I guess all I can do is hope he isn't bad news...although..."

Just then, I noticed that the boy had a rope loosely hanging around his neck as well as around his left wrist. I hesitated at first, but then my sense of security kicked in. I checked carefully if the boy had any weapons or sharp objects on him, which he didn't, and then took the rope from around his neck, untied the knot and instead tied it to the heaviest object I could find: the kitchen table. Now he could eat but not escape afterwards. Although he did look very comfortable laying there and was breathing calmly and slowly. It was almost as if he was a stray dog looking for a place to stay and someone to be his friend. The thought made me smile just for a moment. He was indeed somewhat cute looking with his face squished by the hard wood planks on which he laid. His hair looked soft and I was really tempted to touch it, but then quickly restrained myself.

"What are you doing, Arka? This isn't a dog; it might be some kind of criminal for all we know..."

With a last short sigh, I lifted myself up, picked up my coat from the coat rack near the door and left the house. Of course I locked the doors this time.

I was somehow exited to come back after work and get to know this strange boy better, as weird as it sounds. Something inside me was intrigued the second he started tumbling towards me. My life was, to be completely honest, pretty boring at that time and I ached for unusual events and inconveniences more than I probably should have. I guess that's due to my grandmother always telling me stories about all the adventures she'd been going on when she was younger and not yet a mother of a baby daughter. I shook my head and let out another sigh before finally closing up the front gate and walking down the road towards the bus stop at the other end of the forest that surrounded the village. It was quite a walk, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I love the forest, I used to play in it and build houses out of tree bark and sticks when I was a child. Apart from that, a bit of fresh air can't hurt, can it? The ventilation system wasn't exactly the best at my workplace. Everything seemed to be polluted and dirty in the big cities, I still don't understand why people could possibly want to stay there for any longer than necessary.


	3. Discovery

But back to the story at hand. I got on the heavily packed bus heading into the city and managed to survive the stench of sweat and lack of space just barely. You'd think I'd get used to that over time, but no. I never got used to it, and I'm sure nobody really does. After a while I didn't mind that the bus was that packed though. It's not my nor any other person's fault that this bus was the only one picking up passengers from the nearby villages that wanted to go to the city. In that case, it was a management issue. Yes, it is true that some people disliked us "outsiders" and still do today, but at least they provided work for those in search of it and thus many people had simply accepted the intolerance of the so-called "city folk". It was like bad and good karma balancing each other out, in the end there was more or less a relationship of indifference between these two kinds of people.

Finally, I arrived at the bus stop close to my workplace and put on a surgical mask to avoid the pollution in the air. It was like a gray fog, a fog that left horrible stains on clothes which is why I always wore a protective coat over my uniform. After a few minutes on foot I could already see a neon green sign poking out of the thick fog high up in the air. This sign belonged to a pale, dusty yellow block of concrete I call my workplace. "Ilumnos Corp.", not the best place to work at in this part of the city, but certainly not the worst one either. It was enough to pay for food and the bills. Once again, I had to think about the strange boy laying on my kitchen floor. Good thing I locked the storage room or else I might have run out of my supplies for the month that morning.

The heavily stained glass doors of the factory building swung open automatically in front of me and I set foot into the almost clean foyer in which I had to register every morning.

"Welcome at Ilumnos, how may I help you?", the receptionist said in a tone that was almost friendly.

"Arka Orumiki, signing in for the nine double zero shift."

The lady sitting at the reception desk swiftly entered the information. Without lifting her gaze an inch to possibly meet mine, she opened another window on her screen and asked:

"Registration code?"

I recited the code I had received when I started working there, the 8 digits that were treated with more care than any other personal information you might have. Once again, the slim, almost bony fingers of the lady started to move and after a few more clicks and clacks a printer standing next to her screen began rattling. A few moments passed until it spat out a small green card with a single red line running across the center of it. As the woman handed me the card, she grunted something inaudible and then started typing once more. I took the card and walked over to a small gray apparatus with a red light on top of it, hanging on the wall next to the large steel-ish doors of an elevator. I inserted the card into the slot on the bottom and waited for the light to turn green. It took longer than usual but in the end, the light finally turned green and the elevator doors opened, presenting to me an ensemble of a shabby old mirror, dirty mint green linoleum that covered the floor and advertisements and posters sticking to the walls. Not to mention the stench of rubbing alcohol. I took a deep breath, trying to hold on to the relatively tolerable air inside the foyer, and entered the cabin. And up it went.

I can't exactly remember what happened at work that day, but it was probably more of the same. I was working in the communications department and usually took care of the maintenance and paperwork, such as letters, invoices, reports. Most of them came from places further away, where people didn't have Chips implanted into their bodies and still wrote on paper instead of screens. It felt like leaping between decades sometimes. Even their style of writing was rather antique. Beautiful phrases, but considered unnecessary.

At around 5 pm, I left my small square office space like I did every day and headed back towards the elevator. Walking past all the white walls, with slim openings between them to allow workers to slip inside, I tried not to look at the faces of my co-workers. Yellow, stale, like a dying animal. Their eyes were like dead fish, threatening to drop out of their sockets or roll back into their heads, to leave gaping holes and rotting flesh behind. It made me sick, and yet, I felt like I couldn't ignore them. They were the living image of the fate that would have awaited me. I'm not really the kind of person to believe in a deity or higher force, but I do believe that meeting him was a blessing. He made me realize that I had to change something. Thanks to him, I didn't rot away like my co-workers did. I'm sorry, I just keep getting off track today for some reason.

* * *

I was home at around six thirty, like every day. I was about to open the door, strip my coat and my uniform right off to change into something more comfortable and heat up some of my favorite pea soup when I realized that I had a guest waiting for me inside. Probably waiting for more food. I couldn't help but smile when thinking back to him waiting patiently for the food like a puppy. I slid the key into the lock and turned it before pushing open the door and taking a look inside the house. The bread was gone, but so was the boy. The rope was laying sprawled out on the floor, still connected to the table.

"I'm home. How have you been?"

Before I could even finish the sentence I saw an animal sprinting around the corner towards me.

 **It was that wolf again.**

As soon as I realized that, I pulled the door closed and tried to lock it again, but it was too late. This animal was clearly hungry, and relentlessly tried to break down the door between us. Thoughts were running through my head.

 _Did I really leave a window open? Did the boy let this wolf in? Is it really his pet then? Was this his plan all along, to take my property and just kill me off afterwards?_

Tears started streaming down my face and I began to sob, quietly at first against the deafeningly loud creaking and crashing sounds coming from inside my house. But as my sobbing became more intense, the barking and noises of something gnawing and smashing against the door came to a halt. Out of relief or curiosity as to why this animal had just given up I stopped crying for a moment. A few minutes passed without a single sound coming from inside my house. Then, someone or something pulled open the door from the inside. It was the boy. There were tears glistening in the corners of his eyes, but apart from that he showed no emotions whatsoever. He opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but didn't. Instead he went over to the kitchen table and put the rope around his wrist again. He laid down on the floor, just a hint of remorse or pain in his eyes, and then shrank. And grew. And his hair grew longer and longer and his ears became hairy and pointy and his teeth sharp and protruded from the side of his mouth. And then he just fell asleep, as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a shapeshifter. You can rest assured that in that moment, when my life had just been flashing by before my eyes, I would have believed just about anything. And so I did. I said Goodnight to my new pet or roommate, whatever he or it chose to be, fell asleep, and dreamt of playing in the forest.


	4. Breakfast

The next morning, despite having work to do before leaving home, was a slow one. For a few minutes after waking up, I was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling above. I could hear someone else breathing calmly, grunting once in a while as if having a bad dream, but I didn't really care. I was glad to be alive for once. It hadn't been a dream. I could feel the splinters that were stuck in my palms. I could feel a soft stinging in my eyes, the one you get after you've been crying. Thankfully, my eyes weren't as puffy as I feared they would be. I couldn't possibly leave for work looking like I had just attended a funeral. People would have started spreading rumors about me. Now, I can deal with lies being told about me but these things tended to get dirty pretty quickly, especially at work where your every move was being monitored, and the last thing I wanted to happen was my family or possibly even my entire home village being involved. I closed my eyes and took a moment to listen to the ticking of the clock on my nightstand, the muffled chirping of the birds outside and my own heartbeat. I granted myself the pleasure of stretching my arms. While letting out a gleeful sigh I intertwined my fingers and pushed them towards the ceiling as hard as I could. I then slid my legs off the bed and dug my feet into a pair of worn out gray slippers. I felt a wave of lightheadedness sweep over me as I stood up.

"Right. It's about time I get some of my energy back."

I took a look around the room, trying to locate from where the breathing was coming. It took a moment because my eyes were still adjusting to the light of the morning sun flooding the bedroom, but eventually I found him. There he was, curled up into a ball laying underneath my bed. One of the decorative blankets that usually laid on my bed atop my actual blanket had apparently slipped off during the night and now been transformed into a little nest. Another blanket was shielding the space under the bed from the sun, but the few rays of light that got through made it look especially warm and cozy. I began feeling sleepy again, but quickly shook it off.

* * *

As a child, I used to build caves made out of chairs and thick wool blankets. Whatever color the blanket had, it filtered the light in such a beautiful way that I could have stayed there for hours. I decided to not wake him for now. He had likely been just as riled up and exhausted as me the day before.

I made my way into the kitchen and fired up the stove, filled up a kettle with water and set it atop it. While picking out the type of tea I started to wonder if I would even have enough time to get ready for work. I glanced towards the clock hanging above the kitchen table. Eight thirty. I was lucky my shift that day didn't begin as early as usual or I would've probably lost my job.

"Great. I guess I can forget watering the flowers then. Or even having a proper breakfast."

"Breakfast."

I flinched and dropped the tea bag that I had been holding. He had shifted back into a human and stood in the frame of the door to the kitchen, watching me intently as an awkward silence took over.

"Um...y-yeah. I'm making breakfast."

Silence. His gaze was piercing me. He didn't budge an inch from his spot and just kept on staring. At least now I knew that he wasn't completely mute. I decided to give him a little hint.

"Do you maybe want to eat some bread?"

No reaction.

"Of course there wouldn't be, he doesn't even know what language this is..." I muttered to myself.

I pulled open a cupboard and took out a loaf of bread to show to him what I meant. As soon as he saw the bread in my hands his light brown eyes started gleaming with what I assumed to be joy. His stern expression changed ever so slightly but somehow I could tell how he was feeling. His voice was a bit shaky and his way of talking insecure but nevertheless he started shouting the word "Bread!" over and over again. I quickly put the loaf of bread on a large plate and set it down on the table.

"Here you go."

Once more silence fell over him. I sighed deeply and set the plate down a level deeper, on the floor.

"How about this?"

He still seemed to be confused, although I didn't know what there was to be confused about now that I had prepared the meal for him just like I had the morning before. He seemed to be thinking intensely about something. Ultimately, he decided to walk – or rather stumble – towards me and plopped down to his knees in front of the plate. He reluctantly tore a piece off the bread and bit into it.

I watched him eat for a moment before turning back towards the stove and checking on the kettle. I took it off the stove-top a bit earlier than I usually did. I didn't want to risk scaring my new housemate with the high-pitched whistling sound, I could barely stand it myself. I picked out a new bag of tea and put it in my favorite mug before pouring the hot water over it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was watching me attentively again. I set down the kettle and turned my gaze towards him. He had stopped eating about halfway through the loaf and was staring at me as if expecting me to pour him a cup as well. I took a closer look at the bread. Maybe it had become moldy since it had been rather humid the past few days, but no, there weren't any rotten pieces or discolorations. Maybe he simply wasn't as hungry as expected. I dipped a spoon into a jar of honey and let it sink in for a moment before slowly pulling it out again, admiring the thick golden coat covering it and moving it over into my mug. I watched the honey dissolve while mixing it with the faint green water. There are a lot of things and habits I have abandoned over time, but this particular ritual has stuck with me until now. Suddenly, I could hear something scratching over the kitchen floor. I looked down to see the boy nudging his plate towards my chair with his nose. He fixed his gaze on me for a brief moment, nudged the plate again, and let out a grunting noise. I tried to read his expression to tell what he was thinking. I was stuck between "I don't like it." and "You can have this.".

"Can...I?"

I pointed a finger to the plate and then to my chest. He tilted his head to the side and looked at me, wondering why I didn't accept his gift or why I didn't serve him something else. I cautiously stretched out one arm towards the plate and picked up the bread that was left. He didn't snap at me, or react in any way at all - except for more staring of course - , so I concluded that I might as well enjoy the food while it lasted.

"Thank you. I'm really hungry, too."

I tried giving him at least a semi-honest smile. He pulled back his lips to show me his own teeth in response. I couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt to smile back. At this point I was even more curious about his story, where he came from and what his name was. If he even had a name. Most importantly why he had decided to stay in my garden and now in my house. The cold realist inside me told me it was probably just because of food, but I felt my optimistic side gain more and more power as time went on. It almost felt like a scene out of a cheap romance novel. It felt like the most unrealistic, the most fantastic of setting, but I never would have thought how real some fairy tales could be.


	5. Hunted

In the time I still had left, I enjoyed my tea and the bread as best as I could while throwing a glance or two towards my newfound companion, who had curled up into a ball of messy gray fur in front of the still warm stove and was sleeping peacefully once again. As I stood up to take care of the dirty dishes he lifted his head a few centimeters, not quite awake but just about conscious enough to watch me for a short while before letting the warmth radiating from the oven take him back to dream land. I was quite relieved to see his interest in my every move had diminished greatly, allowing me to complete the most urgent of tasks in peace before having to hurry to the station. Just as I was tying the laces on my black leather boots, I heard tapping sounds, or rather the sound of something continuously clicking against the stone tiles of the kitchen floor. I looked up to find the boy in wolf's clothing making his way to the front door.

 _Was he about to leave my house, maybe to never return? Now that his hunger was satisfied, would he leave and roam the forest?_

The only answer I got was yawning, accompanied by extensive back stretches. Shimmering in a ray of light coming from the window next to the door were his sharp claws, his impressive fangs and the subtle indication of moist on the tip of his snout. He sat down next to the door and watched me tend to my boots. At that moment I was especially eager to know about his past, in particular with other humans. He clearly had some sort of understanding of what humans did in their daily lives and how a canine companion is expected to behave. He could have easily opened the door like he did yesterday, if not as an animal, he could simply switch into his humanoid form.

Realizing I was already in a hurry and was just wasting time with these thoughts, I gathered my things and unlocked the door.

"I'll have to teach you my language very soon."

A huffing sound was his response. I waited just a moment before opening the door, just a moment more to turn towards him and give him a bright smile. Maybe he even wagged his tail a little bit in response. Just as I gave the wood a good push, he slipped past me, his wiry fur brushing against my calves, and disappeared into the woods.

I sighed. Of course I was worried that the occasional huntsmen patrolling throughout the area could get him, but I was also confident in his ability to defend himself. At least he wasn't starving anymore.

* * *

I don't need to repeat my everyday cycle, do I? Nowadays it's probably even more common than all those years ago. People struggling to stay alive, treading a fine line between being terribly unkempt and just about tolerable, not even children spared from this madness. There was this co-worker of mine, she once brought her son with her to work and got fired soon after due to "improper behavior". She couldn't find someone to take care of the little guy, the nanny she had hired had quit her job the day before. Of course, there were kindergardens around, even a child care section on the first floor of the building, but the way the children there were treated was horrible. All the dirt and dust, combined with the ever present smell of cigarettes and industrial smoke, killed off the premature sparkling in their eyes swiftly. Some started getting used to all this to the degree of becoming anxious if their lungs weren't filled with dirt and ash. Thus, they filled even their relatively clean homes with the troubles of the outside world by stealing cigarettes or leaving their window open all day without activating the filtering system built into almost all homes. If they weren't part of the slum, that is.

But enough of that. This is supposed to be a happy story, not a depressing one. I'm glad I was raised near the forest, where the trees took care of keeping the air fresh and healthy.

* * *

I returned back home and as I opened my letter box, I noticed that Yurkas hadn't been here yet. This was very unusual, because he liked to visit me and have a chat even when he didn't have any mail for me. Sometimes he didn't make it in time to reach my house before I left, in which case he left a note in my letter box, wishing me a nice day and apologizing for being late. There was none. I was getting worried at this point. What if he had had an accident? I decided to pay a visit to his home. As I made my way along a dirt path near the edge of the forest, I heard a rustling coming from somewhere close to me, somewhere in the tall grass to the left of the trail.

It moved rather quickly, from side to side, to and fro, the thin green straws moving vividly. I tried my best to focus on it, but it was too quick and I was too tired to concentrate properly. Not to mention it was getting dark. Instinctively, I took a few steps backwards, away from the shivering grass. My right hand glid to the pocket of my coat, feeling up the shape of a small and slender knife. Suddenly, the rustling stopped and the sharp blades of grass froze. Like time had stopped. I couldn't move a muscle. I felt like I was gradually, at a painfully slow rate, losing my sense of touch and the shape of the knife became foggy, like it was made out of ice, slowly melting away from my own body heat. It felt like an eternity had passed when I was finally kicked back to my senses by the sound of a gunshot, followed by a weak howl and something hurrying deeper into the thicket.

"That was close."

Someone stood right beside me, wielding a gun and pointing it towards the woods, then slowly lowering it with a satisfied, but mostly concerned look on their face.

"Dammit Arka, what are you even doing here? It's dangerous being this close to the forest, especially when it's getting dark."

"I know, I… I was just worried-"

"Yeah, you're worried alright. Just look at how pale you are..."

I was relieved to see that Yurkas was alright. He didn't seem to be hurt, or at least I didn't notice anything unusual.

"At least you aren't. I'm out here because you forgot all about me, you know." I said and gave him a tired smile.

Now Yurkas was the one going pale.

"Really? I'm sorry Arka, I was just incredibly busy this morning, and since Erick has fallen ill I had to do all the work by myself."

Erick is the name of Yurkas' eldest son. I didn't know him very well since he had always been much more timid than his parents and especially his father. Whenever I met him though or saw him talking to other people, he was very friendly and sometimes, by choosing the right topics, he came out of his shell with enthusiasm, only then creeping back in when he noticed how people either became disinterested or let him talk on and on without saying a word, just being happy about being able to witness this side of him.

"I'm sure he'll feel better soon. Anyways, why are you here? And since when do you know how to shoot?"

Yurkas sighed deeply and hung the gun over his shoulder with the belt attached to its wooden body.

"When I carried out the mail this morning, I noticed something strange. Something smelled...rotten. I followed the smell because it was too strong to simply ignore and then I saw it. Taiga's chicken coop had been broken into. Six chicken laid dead on the ground, mauled and torn apart. Huge bite marks on all of them."

I could see from the distorted expression on his face that he was trying his best not to throw up.

"So I thought, this could have been a fox, but it would have been a very large one. Plus, there haven't been any cases of a massacre like this in a long time. So I figured, this was the work of something worse than a fox."

He didn't have to say it out loud, but he did anyway.

"I'm thinking a wolf has done this. And I'm hoping to the Gods above that he hasn't brought his pack with him."

 ** _A wolf has done this.  
_**


	6. Recovery

Thoughts were running wild through my head. I was begging that the feeling in my gut was wrong. But even more than that, I was scared. As I desperately tried to calm myself, Yurkas spoke again.

"I doubt this will be an issue for long though. If my ears didn't fool me, that animal back there sounded like a canine..."

He smiled at me, but this time I couldn't force myself to smile back. A cold sensation made its way down my spine.

"I have to leave, sorry."

I didn't want Yurkas to notice how panicked I was. I was shaking slightly and barely managed to keep my voice steady. But of course, nothing ever went unnoticed when he was around.

"Are you okay? You seem pretty beaten up."

He reached out to grab my arm, but I instantly took a step back and froze up, staring holes into the ground. With a "fine then" look on his face, he resumed to his original position, but I could tell he was quietly examining me. After a while he raised his voice again, softer this time.

"Let's go home. I'll make you some tea and then we'll talk."

I wanted to run, run far away and never come back to this place, but something held me back. Like a tight leash.

"You're scaring me, Arka. Say something, please...anything."

I clenched my fists to suppress the burning hot tears building up in my eyes, but it couldn't keep my head from spinning. I had to leave. **Now.** I gathered all the strength I could and opened my mouth.

I just had to say "I'm fine". I could have ended it right there, I could have gone home or pretended to so I could wander into the forest with a lantern and either find him dead, severely injured or not at all. I could have found him sitting on the doorstep waiting for my return, a rabbit in his fangs. Instead, a gurgling sound exited my throat and I fell over.

* * *

I woke up in a foreign bed the next morning. The sun had just begun to rise and the shadows of the nearby houses lazily hung onto the window sill of the small square window in the room, right there at the foot of the bed. I was still tired and felt a bit sick, but I soon recognized the room as being part of Yurkas' house. Just as I realized why I had ended up here, the door opened and Yurkas peeked inside. When he saw that I was awake, he opened the door fully and greeted me with a cheery "Good morning, grumpy cat!" He sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to my torso, and with that, his happy attitude was gone.

"What happened yesterday, Arka? What were you thinking about?"

"I don't know", I lied and turned my head away from him.

"I have never seen you this scared in my life. Was it because of the wolf? Because of work?"

I groaned. "Don't be silly. I've spent my whole life here; those critters don't scare me. Work **is** scary. Scarily boring."

Yurkas didn't say a word and just stared at me with a part angry part frustrated and worried look on his face. I couldn't stand his eyes burning into me, but he sat on the bed in a way that I could hardly move, nevermind leave.

"I guess I didn't hit him right."

I turned towards him, surprised by his sudden words.

"Didn't hit who?"

"That wolf. I thought I got him for sure, that his injuries would either get infected, or he'd be unable to move or he'd lose a lot of blood because of the shrapnels from the shotgun. But that damn animal is gone, nowhere to be found."

He scoffed.

"What a tough bastard."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but I couldn't let him know, so I simply said:

"I'm sure he's taken it as a warning and won't come back anytime soon."

Yurkas gave me one last confused, angry, frustrated look before he caved in and let it go.

"You must be starving from all this stress. Come, Marie has just made breakfast."

He winked. "And your tea should be ready by now, too."

And so, I shuffled to the other side of the bed, threw my legs off the side and came to my feet with newfound energy. I let a smile slip onto my lips and only then noticed that I wasn't wearing what I had worn the night before.

"Don't worry, Marie took care of you. She said you'd surely appreciate it more if she cleaned and ironed it for you."

I simply nodded and quickly made my way to the small, but cozy living-room-kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread and salted sunny side ups filled the rooms. Just then I realized how hungry I really was. No wonder, considering what I had been through the night before. The rest of the family greeted me with a smile, except for one person. There, curled up in a thick woolly blanket on the couch in the corner of the room, laid Erick. His face was pale and he was quivering with every breath he took. Yurkas' daughter, Erie, was the first to notice the worry in my eyes. Quietly, she stood up from her seat and took my hand.

"Brother is very sick. He needs to sleep a lot, and he doesn't want you to get sick, too."

She softly but with determination tugged at my hand and led me to my seat. I couldn't keep my eyes off Erick though. I wondered how Yurkas could bear it, seeing him in this miserable state.

 _Whatever could it be that made him that sick?_

My thoughts kept on spinning in my head that way until Marie asked me how I had slept and if I would like some honey with my tea before drifting off to more smalltalk. Her strategy worked out. I could see it in the wrinkles on her forehead and the bags underneath her eyes how much she wanted to drag my attention away from the tragedy that had befallen this home.

* * *

At the end of the meal I thanked them all for their hospitality and, of course, the amazing food, but the one person I really wanted to talk to was Erick. They knew and simply nodded. I could see how Marie turned away and disappeared into another part of the house as I closed the distance between him and me. Seeing him up close, shaking and breathing heavily, didn't exactly make me feel better. I knelt down next to his face and, carefully to not wake him up, put a hand to his forehead. As expected, he had a high fever. He slowly opened his eyes and silently stared at me for a few seconds before visibly forcing himself to smile.

"Arka…you came to…see me…?"

His voice sounded raspy, like an old man's voice. This attitude in his voice, this warm and tired calmness with which he spoke, frightened me. My own voice became nothing more than a whisper. A part of me wanted to speak up, to treat him like always, but I was too afraid to break him apart with the mere force of my vocal cords vibrating.

"Of course I did. I wanted to see how you were holding up and hopefully healing."

"It's…hard, but I'll manage…somehow…"

 _Please, please do._

"I have to leave now, but I promise I'll visit you again soon."

I got back onto my feet and wanted to turn around and leave as I felt Erick's sweaty palm touch mine. He held my hand and softly pressed it, essentially as hard as he could in his current condition.

"I'll be waiting..."

He then closed his eyes and pulled his hand back under his blanket. I felt an unbearable urge to cry build up inside of me, but I knew that I couldn't give in. Not now, not in front of his family. And so, I quickly gathered my things, got dressed and left.

The fresh morning air outside helped to repress my feelings, but now a different thought was taking over my body. The boy. I started running as fast as I could, but it felt like an eternity had passed before my front porch came into vision. I stormed through the still open fence gate and fell straight into his arms. He just stood there, at the top of the stairs, only letting out a surprised grumble as I laughed like a madman. At least that's what my neighbors must have thought when they saw me standing on the steps, dried blood stuck to the stone, and a rabbit's corpse laying just beneath my feet. It was only when I let him go that I noticed a collection of small, sharply cut holes in his shirt. Right there on his shoulder, spreading out over part of his chest.


	7. Introduction

So it was true. What Yurkas had foretold – or rather feared – had come true. A wolf had come and stolen Taiga's chicken. And yes, Yurkas had shot that wolf, and yes, he had hit him, he had hit him in the chest even! Yet here he was, the culprit of this murder, smiling a childish smile and holding a dead rabbit by its ears. After a moment of shock and realization I quickly ushered him inside and motioned him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs and pull off his shirt. I wasted no time to check his chest and take care of his wounds but oddly enough, there were none. Yet the holes in his shirt indicated that something sharp had pierced the fabric. There were even a few dark red spots on his shirt.

"So is the blood the rabbit's…? Weird…" I mumbled and waved my hand absent-mindedly as in 'It's okay, I'm done.'.

And so the boy let his shirt drop down again and instead focused on the rabbit, still in his grip. He leered at it hungrily and then shoved it towards me, motioning me to take it. I hesitated. This rabbit had been dead for a whole night already and who knows what kind of illnesses it might have had. Ultimately I decided that I needed to do something to push my worries aside and bring a bit of normality back into this situation. And so I cautiously took the rabbit from his hands and got to cooking.

* * *

I hadn't eaten a wild animal's meat – or any meat at all – in quite a while so I actually looked forward to it a little bit. Sitting behind me at the kitchen table, the boy excitedly shuffled his feet (instead of his tail in wolf form I suppose). Seeing how I prepared the food and smelling the tasty roasted meat, he could barely contain himself. I think he even drooled a little bit. I guess it's only natural, given that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning.

Since it was a Saturday and the next Monday would be a holiday, I decided to use these three days to get my new housemate more accustomed to living in a village. That especially meant to teach him a bit of my language – I couldn't keep him away from the rest of the village forever after all – and establish a few rules. Like, don't break into chicken coops and act like a human once in a while – although, I have to admit, him acting like a dog all the time was pretty cute.

Just when I thought that, someone knocked on the door. Without even waiting for an answer, the door swung wide open and in came my mom, followed by my dad, who pushed my grandpa in his wheelchair as my grandma walked next to him.

"Arka, dear!"

My mom rushed at me and squeezed me in her arms.

"I heard all about it from Marie…how you were nearly attacked by a wolf, how you suddenly fell unconscious…"

She suddenly let go and hastily inspected my entire body.

"Mom, I'm fine. Nothing happened to me, thanks to Yurkas. He chased the wolf away."

"But what if — ", my mom began in a slightly angry tone, but then, as her gaze wandered above my head, stopped.

"Arka…", my dad began with a slight smile, "why didn't you tell us?"

"Tell you what…?" I asked as I turned around to see what my mom and dad saw.

The boy had gotten up and now stood right behind me. As I looked at him, he tilted his head a bit and nodded ever so slightly in the direction of the stove where the meat was getting close to being done. I wondered if he just had a really good nose, even as a human, or if he already knew what a roasted rabbit looked like, but before I could really think about it my mom called out:

"He's right! Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

 _Oh. Well, I guess that's what it looks like, huh. A couple having breakfast together, even though this is a bit much for just breakfast…_

Then it clicked.

"N-no! It's not like that! He's just a friend! Um…", I blurted out, but then realized the situation I was in. Where should I go from here? How could I explain to them why he lives with me?

My mom and dad stared at me, wide-eyed in surprise at my sudden outburst. The first person to talk again was my grandma.

"A friend, hm? He's not from around here, is he?"

She carefully inspected the boy.

 _Great. Now I even have to make up a story about how we met._

"Well…"

In an effort to win myself some time to think, I turned off the stove and prepared the table.

"Why don't I tell you while we eat something together? We haven't had a family meal in forever!" I said cheerfully while I smiled the most innocent smile I could.

* * *

While my grandma was still skeptical and my grandpa rejoiced in his wheelchair over the nice food – my mom treated him like a child sometimes because of his age and condition, so he rarely ate anything other than porridge and veggies –, my mom happily sat down at the kitchen table, happy little tears forming in her eyes. She had always been the easy-to-touch type. To be honest, I made use of that way too often…sorry about that, mom.

There was only space for four people at the table so I had to bring out another, smaller table for my grandparents. I pushed the boy to the seat next to the wall and closest to the stove and then quickly sat down right next to him to shield him from my grandma's eyes. As soon as I brought out the food, everyone was fixated on it.

"Arka, honey, it looks great! I didn't know you were already this good at preparing meat!", my mom beamed like a proud mom does.

I just kept on smiling. In my head though, it was a race against time. My mom was also very attentive so I had to find the perfect, flawlessly believable story.

"So…basically, he is a traveler that got robbed on his way to the next big city. He hit his head pretty badly and since he can't pay the hospital fees he's staying with me until he can contact his family."

"Must be from pretty far away…I wonder where…", my grandma murmured.

"Haha, yeah…I've been wondering, too."

"It's so great to see how responsible you are now! Ah, my wonderful daughter…", Mom sighed, folding her hands as if thanking a God.

 _So sorry mom…you're just too easy to fool when you're like this…_

"But that doesn't explain how you two met.", my dad added, still smiling his 'I just met my daughter's first real boyfriend'-smile, "I mean, you were at work, right? Or did he just show up at your doorstep?"

Mom chimed in with a "Yeah, that's right! I mean… as much as I love you and trust you to be an angel, I don't think he just showed up here."

"Well…I met him when I was…when I was at the bus stop! He looked like he was searching for something, but when I approached him he looked kind of sick so I took him with me on my way back home."

"Taking a random man back home?"

"Well…he just seemed so sick that I felt responsible…?"

And there she was again, my proud mom.

"Still, you need to be careful. He could be all kinds of things. How did you even find out he is a traveler?", Dad enquired.

"Uh…he just seems like one. I mean…a crazy person wouldn't dress like this. I've never seen these clothes before, but they seem pretty well-made so…"

Before my dad or my mom could ask any more questions, I offered them a piece of the rabbit.

"Come on now, let's eat already!"

And so, what I had planned to happen in a few weeks or so happened right then: I introduced him, the…sick traveler from a faraway country, to the rest of the village. Those few hours of rest I got that Saturday would be the last I got that weekend. Now that everyone would hear the news from my mom, I had to make sure he was ready for even more attention.


End file.
